I just want a story where I can experience Mulder and Scully dancing lovingly to soft jazz. Thus this fic was born, inspired by "Easy Living" by the incomporable Billie Holiday. I really recommed listening to it, because it's just so lovely.

The case was done, packed up. The rental car had been dropped off, cheque in the attendant's hand. Their shared basement office locked, and Mulder and Scully had said their goodbyes for the weekend, Mulder watching Scully drive away with a little wave. For a while he stood in the FBI car park, trying to bring himself to move, go home.

Trouble was, his apartment didn't feel like a welcoming prospect anymore. Mulder liked his solitary ways sometimes, but this particular afternoon he felt he needed company. The Gunmen were not the antidote to his melancholy mood, but he knew exactly who was.

After deciding to take the shuttle home, Mulder wondered how likely it was that Scully would come over his place, and let herself unwind. Maybe with a glass of wine. But nothing like with Van Blundht, the rat bastard. All of Mulder's insecurities suddenly compiled inside him like a punch to the nose. Of course Scully wouldn't want reminding of the night Van Blundht tricked her into thinking he was her partner, and tried to get a little cosier. Inadequacy and rage pooled in Mulder's stomach, and he had to flex his hands a few times to release the anger.

Maybe if he called to ask her expertise on a case... no, he didn't want to remind Scully of work when he wanted to relax with her. What if he just asked her over, no pretense, no case to hide behind? What if he just invited her over purely for the pleasure of her company?

Or what if he just showed up at her apartment?

He'd probably get kicked out within about ten seconds. Scully was a patient woman, but she most likely didn't want to see him until Monday morning.

But it was worth a try.

Stopping at a liquor store for a nice bottle of red, Mulder walked to Scully's from the shuttle. It had begun to get dark, and the lamplights faded into bursts of brilliance, each leading him towards Scully.

Wow, maybe he needed to ease off the poetry and romance.

Mulder wondered how long it would take Scully to give him that special exasperated "For God's sake, Mulder" look and tell him to go home. He hoped against hope that she would let him in. He really didn't feel like going home alone tonight, and knew it would be a dull and boring weekend without her.

Suddenly he found himself at the door to her apartment block. Taking a deep breath (he wasn't sure what for, it was just Scully), he jumped up the dteps three at a time, and let himself in. After stairs, he was in front of her door. He abruptly realised that he was still in his goddamn suit from the office, and knew without a doubt that he'd find it hard to be relaxed whilst wearing this monkey suit. Oh, well, too late now.

Mulder raised a hand to knock, then faltered. Squaring his shoulders, he let his knuckles rap smartly against the door. No going back now. He heard the padding of feet behind the door, and imagined Scully in her cute slippers (a Christmas gift from her Mother). He smiled at the sweet mental image.

Then the door opened and what he saw was even better than the slippers. Scully was the epitome of casual, in soft blue boyfriend jeans and a white vest, gold cross still winking at the base of her throat. Mulder instantly decided to make her wear jeans permanently around the office.

"Mulder? What are you doing here? Are you alright?" Not after those jeans. Mulder jerked himself out of his reverie, and blinked rapidly.

"Yeah, Scully, I'm fine. I, uh, brought a bottle of red. Can I come in?" Scully tilted her head and raised an eyebrow, amused. She stepped back to open the door wider, and Mulder stepped in.

"Sure thing, come on in." Mulder set the wine bottle on her counter while Scully fetched a bottle-opener. Carefully, she screwed the metal spiral into the cork and yanked, the bottle giving a satisfying pop. Scully poured, handed a glass to Mulder, and beckoned him over to her living room. Scully set some music playing, smooth jazz. Very relaxing.

They both sat down. Mulder liked the way Scully sat in her own home, legs tucked under her, arm resting on the back of the sofa. It was cute, and Mulder felt himself smile goofily at her.

"So to what do I owe the pleasure, Mulder?"

"No real reason, Scully, I just wanted to see you outside of work. Relax together, if that's okay." Mulder didn't know why he was so nervous. It's just Scully.

"Of course, but you're still wearing your suit."

"So I am," Mulder smiled bemusedly, and took of his blazer and tie. He untucked his shirt, and thought he saw Scully's eyes follow the hem as it brushed his abdomen. Smirking, he let it fall, and sat back down on the couch, "Better?"

"Much." Was all Scully said, as she took her first sip of wine. Mulder watched her neck move as she swallowed. Oh, God, he was alone with Dana Scully. In her apartment.

"Good?" Scully looked confusedly at him, tilting her head the way a puppy would. It was so outrageously endearing, Mulder felt his heart squeeze. Warning, too much Dana Scully can cause heart palpitations if not taken diluted.

"The wine, is it okay?"

"Oh, yes, it's very nice. Where did you get it?"

"Oh, just the liquor store." Scully made a humming noise.

Both of them knew this conversation sounded banal, but to them it was balm. They spent so much time investigating and discussing the paranormal, it was something of a relief to talk about normal things. Like where the wine was from, how they were. Mulder and Scully knew they needed the repreive, the rest from the high-octane department they worked for.

They fell into companiable silence for the time being, Scully swinging her head gently to the music. Mulder closed his eyes and let out a breath, feeling the week leave his lungs. He filled them with the smell of Scully's home.

When he opened his eyes again, Scully had also closed her eyes, and tilted her head back to rest on the back of the sofa. Mulder let a hand rest on her knee to get her attention. Scully opened her eyes in surprise at the sudden, but not unwelcome, contact.

"Can I have this dance?" Mulder smiled his most charming smile, holding out an inviting hand, and Scully half-smiled back. What the hell. She took it, marvelling at the size and warmth of it.

Mulder pulled her up gently, holding her hand like it was glass, and turned the music up. Billie Holiday's Easy Living slipped smoothly out of the radio, soft piano setting the rhythm for the pair. Mulder steeled himself and gathered Scully close to him. He brought his hand to rest on her back, right in between her shoulderblades. His left and her right hand gripped each other tight, and they began to sway to the easy beat.

"I'm happy to do, whatever I do for you," sang Billie, and Mulder squeezed her hand at the lyric, and Scully looked up at him fondly. She let her head rest on his chest, and Mulder didn't even hesitate to plant a soft kiss in her hair. He felt utterly at home, his hand in hers and her arm around his waist, her comforting smell all around him.

Both had their eyes closed, savouring their shared closeness and warmth. Mulder and Scully danced slowly and tenderly, and didn't stop when the song was over.

I'm giving myself the warm fuzzies just imagining this scene, and I hope you liked it too! Review, if you please!